Clutter
by TMBlue
Summary: In a random recurrence of the after effects of Ron's 'brain poisoning' from the Department of Mysteries, he becomes convinced that Hermione has died and that the only way for him to see her again is to stay awake indefinitely.


**Clutter**

**Summary:** In a random recurrence of the after effects of Ron's 'brain poisoning' from the Department of Mysteries, he becomes convinced that Hermione has died and that the only way for him to see her again is to stay awake indefinitely.

**Inspiration:** Just thought I should note that my inspiration for this story came from a song by Arcade Fire called "Rebellion (Lies)". It's a great song that you should all listen to before reading this story : )

_Sleeping is giving in  
No matter what the time is  
Sleeping is giving in  
So lift those heavy eyelids  
People say that you'll die  
Faster than without water  
But we know it's just a lie  
To scare your son, scare your daughter_  
_  
People say that your dreams  
Are the only things that save you  
Come on baby, in our dreams  
We can live our misbehaviour_

_Every time you close your eyes  
Lies, lies_...

**  
Part 1: ****Introduction**

A bright light hovered over him, blurred and white. His chest ached, but he wasn't sure why. As he sat up, he felt his breath hitch in his throat, like it couldn't quite make it to his lungs.

"Lie back," he heard his sister saying, and he blinked, clearing his vision so he could focus on her figure where she lingered in front of him.

"Ginny?" he heard himself ask, though his voice did not sound like his own, as if it had been shut off for so long that he had forgotten how to be himself...

"It's me," she said calmly. "Ron, you scared us..."

He tried to remember what had happened, what she meant, but his brain didn't seem to want to hold on to anything, and before he could remember where he was and why, everything seemed to slip away from him, and he was left with only a sore chest and an auburn head of hair slowly moving closer to push him back into his bed.

"What's going on?" he mouthed, unsure if Ginny had noticed, but she shook her head, looking a bit defeated, but relieved. Why was she relieved?

"You've been in bed for three days, don't you remember what happened?" Ginny asked, tucking a lose hair behind her ear as she sat on the edge of Ron's bed.

"No."

"You were in the garden. You collapsed. A healer was at the house already, friend of dad's from work. He took you up to your room, examined you. He said you'd be fine, just overworked..."

"Overworked?" Ron repeated, trying to focus.

"It was hot out. You may have gotten overheated. He said nothing else was wrong with you, that you needed rest..."

Ron stared at her for a moment, feeling lightheaded and fuzzy. But his eyes crinkled around the edges as a sharp pain blasted through his temple like a shock for a fraction of a second before dispersing as if spreading thin over his whole body.

"Ginny..."

"Ron! Are you okay?" she asked a bit frantically, looking very concerned.

And then he was screaming.

"Mum!" Ginny cried, shaking Ron and trying to knock him out of whatever was overtaking him. "Mum! Help!"

He squinted his eyes shut, desperately trying to hold on to the memories that were now flashing violently through his mind.

"Ron! Calm down!" Ginny ordered, squeezing his shoulders. He felt his mother's heavy footsteps as she rushed into the room, but his eyes remained tightly shut, blocking them out.

"No, no," he whispered, trying to force the light and sound of his room away from him so he could remember.

And then, as if a fuse had been suddenly connected, he opened his eyes and looked into the faces of his mother and sister, both staring concernedly down at him. And he knew.

"I-I just got... confused..." he said, covering for his behavior quickly, looking away from their worried faces. "But I remember now. I'm...okay."

"Ron, you seemed like you were in pain," Ginny began, "screaming and-"

"I-I'll be fine," Ron said in a muted tone, wishing them away...

"Ron-"

"Mum!" Ron snapped, his voice harsher than he expected it to be. He tried to toss them both an apologetic grimace, but... why should he be sorry? He owed them nothing...

"Okay, dear," his mum finally said, backing away from his bed. "But if you need us-"

Ron waited, his heart thumping in his chest, his ears beginning to ring... he wanted them gone, far away from him, far away so they couldn't hear him, see him, know what he was thinking, what he was doing...

The moment his door shut, he fumbled on his bedside table for his wand, and, finding it where he always kept it, he aimed it for the door.

"Muffliato."

A pause. A sob. And he was clutching his bed covers as they were soaked in his tears, in his cries and his screams.

"Harry!" he wailed. Where was Harry? No one had told him. He wanted to know, he needed to know... and as he held tightly to his pillow, his cheek pressed into the soaked and salty material, he knew that he was dying. That he would die from sorrow. Harry. He needed Harry. His heart was breaking, being ripped apart, torn and shredded...

And he knew now what his own mind had obviously been trying to block moments before, trying to erase so he could remain alive...

Hermione. Dead. And she wasn't coming back...

* * *

At that same moment, in a small town in Australia, Hermione walked along a riverside with her parents, their memories at last restored. She hadn't wanted to leave Harry and Ron behind, but Kingsley had only managed to secure one license for her to travel to Australia, and so she had gone, not wanting to leave her parents with false memories for another second. Parting with Ron had been heart breaking, but she knew they'd be able to really be together when she returned. It had been almost a month now, and she was ready to go home. Her parents were getting close too. They had been packing and planning. Soon she'd be with Ron again... with Harry too. And they'd be able to start their lives together...

The way it should be.

She smiled, feeling the warm air on her face. She would see them soon. Maybe a week or two at most.

And as she turned at the end of the pathway with her parents, she began planning her next letter to Ron, the one she'd send as soon as she got to a quill, an ink bottle, and a trustworthy owl...


End file.
